


Broken

by xxenjoy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angst, Everything Hurts, M/M, brief mention of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1188795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had this conversation so often now it was like a memorized script.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so, so sorry.   
> I have no idea what possessed me to write this...

"You're right, Dean. Your company is so much better." Cas spat at him. They had this conversation so often now it was like a memorized script; Dean would bitch about the drug use and Cas would throw it right back in his face. 

"Could be worse, right?"

"Least we're not fighting." He sighed as Dean scoffed in response, "do you even remember how it used to be? Do you remember the night you came here and saw what you turned into? Do you remember what you said when you got home? What you did? For fuck's sake, Dean. You didn't want to turn into this. You used to want _me_. But what good is an angel with broken wings, right? You know what, next time you get drunk and come to me for sympathy I won't be there."

"Cas, come on-"

"No, Dean. _You_ are the reason for all this," he gestured gracelessly at himself, "everything hurts, all the time. Did you ever once stop to think how I felt? Of course not. Sam was my friend, Dean. And you know what? I _miss_ him. Did you ever think of that? That maybe I miss him too? That you don't have to suffer alone? No. Why would you? I gave you literally everything I had, Dean. I _fell_ for you. I lost my home, the only family I ever knew, my _grace_. I gave you everything I was and now you just sweep me aside like nothing," he chuckled humourlessly, running his tongue over his teeth, "so you know what, Dean? I'm done. The Dean Winchester I loved is gone." He turned to leave, but Dean called after him,

"Cas, please-"

He spun around, seething, "Fuck you, Dean. Fuck. You. I _loved_ you Dean and the best I ever got from you was late-night groping when you were so fucking drunk you didn't even know where you were! I'm done, Dean. I'm done."

Hands were on him faster than he could walk away and he turned into Dean, forcing his eyes skyward. Dean's arms were around him and then they were on the ground, rocks and twigs digging into his knees. 

"I'm sorry," Dean rasped, his hand fisting in the fabric of Cas' shirt as if it was the one thing that could save him, "oh God, I'm so sorry Cas."

He dropped his forehead against Dean's shoulder, "I just want the pain to go away. Just tell me to go and I will." Dean shook against him, dragging rough fingers up to cup his face.

"Never leave me," he whispered, "please God, don't leave me." Dean's lips crashed into his, and before Cas had a chance to think, he was kissing him back, fingers dragging through Dean's hair in a vain attempt to pull him closer. 

Cas pulled back, jerking out of Dean's hold, "I'm so fucking stupid," he muttered, "this is just like every other time, Dean. Something goes wrong and suddenly I'm the one you run to again. No this time."

"I need you, Cas"

"You said that once a long time ago, Dean. I believed you then. I don't now." He turned his back on Dean, resolutely ignoring the tears streaming down his face. 

\- - - - -

The mirror caught his eye, shattered in the corner of the room, and he couldn't help but kneel down and look into it. He hated what he saw; he had for a long time, but today was a bad day. Looking around to ensure no one else was in the room with him, he shrugged off one sleeve of his jacket, lifting the sleeve of his shirt.

His heart stopped, his eyes stung; it was still there. After so many years, it remained, faded now and barely noticeable to the eye. As much as it hurt, he couldn't tear his eyes from the mirror, remembering the first time he had seen it in that gas station. The handprint of an angel, the proof that he was - had been - the righteous man. 

His arm crossed his chest, his fingers fitting against the raised marks on his shoulder. Tears were falling heavy into his lap and he choked back a sob as a familiar voice called out to him.

"Y-yeah, coming."

He refused to let anyone ride with him on the way back to the camp. The area was clear; no Croats, and that meant there was no immediate danger, and he refused all offers to assist him. He pulled over halfway back, leaning against the steering wheel and closing his eyes. He didn't start back again until his breathing was back to normal.

When he walked back through the camp, no one spoke to him. It was though everyone knew something he didn't, and he didn't find out until he returned to his cabin. Chuck was waiting for him on the front steps, but he wouldn't meet his eye.

"Dean,"

"What is it?" he asked, a little too gruffly.

"Dean, we found him."

"What?" his head shot up, eyes searching his face frantically. Chuck only smiled sadly, looking away. 

"Dean-"

"No," he interrupted, "no. No."

"I'm sorry. The first group out this morning found a safe house that had been attacked, he was-"

"I don't want to know what happened to him, Chuck. I should have fucking been there. He should have fucking been _here_!" he shouted, clenching his hands into fists. The tears flowed freely down his cheeks now, and he was thankful it was only Chuck there to see him. 

He stormed into his cabin, falling to his knees just inside the doorway. He hadn't thought about their last conversation in so long; years. It came back to him now, everything did. Every single moment they had spent together flashed through his mind and it was like torture.

He had lost everything. Bobby was gone. Sam was gone. Cas was gone. Everyone he had ever loved was dead. He felt like he was going to throw up and his forehead hit the wood floor, his body shaking as he let out the emotion he had been holding back for far too long. 

-

The next morning he was at Chuck's cabin before dawn. When the groggy man opened the door the concern on his face was overwhelming.

"Take me there."

"Dean, it was _attacked_ , it's not safe to go back."

"I don't fucking care. _Take me there_."

The drive was long and incredibly uncomfortable. Chuck kept shooting concerned glances at him, staring over at him with wide, sad eyes. Dean knew the look; God knew he had seen it enough in his life. At least this time he could ignore it. Nothing mattered anymore, not without Sammy. Not without Cas. 

When they reached the house he practically jumped out of the vehicle, running to the front door, kicking it in and searching the front room. 

He didn't have to look far, there were only four bodies in the room, all recent. Only one mattered to him. He crouched down, running a gentle arm down the familiar blue shirt, _his_ shirt. His face was wet, his vision blurred to the point that he had to dry his eyes on his shoulder to make out the features on Cas' pale face. 

"Oh God," he sobbed, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He pressed his head to Cas' chest, fingers fisted in his shirt, "I love you."

Chuck was waiting when he came down the front steps, Cas' body heavy in his arms. He sat and watched while Chuck built up the funeral pyre, blinking away tears as he stared down into his best friend's face.

"Can't you come back? Just one more time. I swear to-" his breath hitched and he tilted his head back, blinking, "I swear, I can fix everything. Just come back. Baby, please-"

"Dean?" a gentle hand rested on his shoulder and a sob escaped him.

"I'm not ready, I'm not-"

"We have to."

It took a long time, but he stood up. He stumbled on his way across the dusty yard, his eyes focused on Cas rather than the ground in front of him. When he laid his body down, Chuck had to physically pull him back. 

He looked on as the last thing he really cared about went up in flames. Chuck stood with him until the fire burnt itself out, crouched next to him when his legs gave out.

There was no bringing him back now. Castiel had come back to him in the past, more times than he could count. He always stood by Dean, no matter what stupid thing he did. Not this time. This time he was gone, and no amount of hoping or praying was going to bring him back.

He forced himself up, pushing the feeling back with one final swipe of his sleeve across his eyes. He turned back to Chuck with a silent nod.

He still had people depending on him. He had gotten through Sam, he would get through this. 

And so they would go back to the camp, stony faced but determined. He stared forward, trying to think of the best way to build up their defences, if they had gotten Cas, they could get him too. 

His heart shattered as they drove away, but he didn't look back. He wouldn't let his emotions show, he would be the fearless leader they expected him to be.

As far as Dean was concerned, he didn't have any other choice.


End file.
